A Visitor in the Magical Kingdom
by vw-power
Summary: Harry Potter loved his friends and his Mum Petunia. A letter arrived, making him choose between all that he knew and a new world. But does he really have a choice? Will he be allowed to live his own life?
1. Chapter 1

**A Visitor in the Magical Kingdom**

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**A/N:** Same old spiel: don't own the characters, make no money, etc. I haven't tried to rip off anyone's fanfic storyline but if you disagree and have seen other stories that mirror this one too closely in your opinion, please let me know…

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**Chapter 1: The Letter**

Hagrid gently handed the young boy over to the Headmaster and McGonagall, tears splashing down through his beard. With grim looks, the boy was placed on the doorstep of the cookie-cutter home in Little Whinging, Surrey.

"He'll be fine, Minerva," the Headmaster murmured quietly and offered placating pats on the witch's shoulder. "They're his blood relatives; I'm sure they'll love Harry as they would their own son."

* * *

Petunia was stressed. She thought it was stressful enough having one boy, her dear Duddykins, and adjusting to motherhood. But now there were two boys she had to look after and care for. _"Well,"_ she mused, _"really three if you count Vernon."_ A brief grimace flashed across her face before she controlled those thoughts and looked once again at the new arrival. The boy looked up at her with bright green eyes and an innocent face. This wasn't her child, but how could she deny him?

Vernon certainly could though. He blustered up to Petunia again, his mustache twitching in disgust. "No! Absolutely not! We already have a son and we don't need the additional burden right now! Just think of how expensive it will be having two children to clothe and feed!"

Petunia glared at him. She had to cajole her husband into considering one child because he was so obsessed with keeping up with the neighbors and showing off how successful he was. She was proud of how well he did his job at Grunnings, but wasn't the purpose of working hard to enjoy life?

Clearly ignoring his wife, Vernon continued his tirade. "Besides, he's not even your child – he's the spawn of your sister and that ruffian she called a husband!" He then stopped and got a wild look in his eye. "I bet that means he'll be a freak! I'm not having a freak like him exposing us to his unnatural ways, Petunia! I won't stand for it!"

She narrowed her eyes and set her jaw, transforming her look from somewhat horsey to predatory. She would be the first to admit she was estranged from her sister for many years, unable to cope with her being 'special'. But she was still her sister and, especially now that she had been murdered, he had no right to call her that. "You will not call her that!" she shot back in an angry tone. "We had our differences, but I will not abandon her son just because of that!"

Vernon threw his hands up in the air. "You expect me to put up with this? I won't do it, Petunia! I won't! You talked me into one child – one! We now have one child and I will not tolerate a second!"

Silence fell over the room as Petunia stared back at this man she thought was her love, her life. "You mean you would never want a second child? I mean if it was our child?" she asked quietly.

Incredulous, he could only gape back at her. How hard could this be to understand? "Why in the world would I ever want another child?"

* * *

Petunia won the battle, but she was losing the war. Ultimately, despite Vernon's loud and frequent objections, Harry stayed and Petunia raised him best she could. But the arguments became more frequent and she was wearing down. This wasn't what marriage was supposed to be like; it wasn't the vision she had in her head when he proposed to her.

One day they both knew it was over. There wasn't yelling and screaming on this day – just resignation about what the reality of the situation was. Vernon had been sleeping in the spare bedroom for over a year now and today came down the stairs for breakfast with a suitcase in hand. "I'll be by later to get the rest of my things and my solicitor will contact you once the papers are drawn up."

Despite all the arguments and animosity, Petunia couldn't help but shed tears now that it was really happening. She merely nodded her understanding and Vernon left the kitchen, closing the door and driving out of her life for good.

* * *

"Good morning, Mum!" Harry called out. He descended the stairs in a blur, with Dudley sleepily trailing after him. Though she was a working mum, she felt proud that the boys were turning out well. Harry was polite, teachers praised his work, and he seemed to have a quiet, unassuming air about him. She was sure he would be a little heartbreaker as he got older!

Dudley was more of a force – he was loud, brash, and a marginal student. But he was good at sports, especially ones that put a premium on his size, like rugby. He also was somewhat of a class clown and therefore his teachers and friends would roll their eyes at his antics, giving frustrated-yet-amused smiles whenever the subject of Dudley's latest escapades came up. Despite their different personalities, they got along with each other; as well as any two brothers would get along, at least.

Harry quickly pulled out the eggs and set to work helping Petunia finish breakfast - _"He was such a dear boy!"_ – while Dudley staggered over to the front door and get the mail. "Have you showered yet, Dudders? You're both supposed to go to Mrs. Figg in an hour and I don't want to be known as having unkempt children!" Petunia was now working swing shift over the summers, which meant that she relied on Mrs. Figg's kindness to help her watch the boys.

Dudley dropped the letters on the counter and took his seat at the table to attack the toast Petunia laid out earlier. Casually flipping through the letters before plating up the bacon, she performed the mental check, _"Bill, bill, advert, alimony check…"_ Vernon was at least paying a small stipend to Petunia for Dudley's care, allowing her to keep food on the table. As part of their settlement, she got the house, custody, and received some money. But the money was only for Dudley, as he never acknowledged responsibility for Harry. It was a concession; she could have gotten a lot more out of the man. But by that time she was through and just wanted to close that chapter in her life. Keeping the boys and not having to move out were what she really wanted anyway.

The final letter caught her eye and she jerked in surprise – it had that fancy green writing she vaguely recalled from many, many years ago. Looking at it closely she knew: It was Harry's letter! She quickly stuffed it into her pocket and resumed serving breakfast to her boys. She would have to deal with this, but not now…

* * *

Petunia was slowly washing the dishes as darkness descended. She had unconsciously been scrubbing the same plate for a good twenty minutes, lost in thought. The letter. Why did he have to get a letter? For the last two days Petunia thought about the blasted letter she had in her pocket, choosing to keep it on her all day. Boys will be boys, poking around whatever you are sure they shouldn't be poking about in. Over those two days, her thoughts and feelings from her own childhood would always rise up, causing anger and jealousy to temporarily cloud her judgment before tamping it back down again. It wouldn't be fair to Harry if he weren't given the choice…

Her mind made up, she ascended the stairs and made her way to Harry's room at the far end of the hall. She felt bad his room was smaller than Dudley's but he didn't seem to mind. They painted it a dark red and once some furniture was in there it turned out quite cozy. She knocked lightly on the door, certain that he was still up based on the light coming from under the door. "Harry, can I come in?"

"Sure Mum," he replied, setting down a football magazine he had been reading on his bed.

Petunia settled sat down on the bed beside Harry and fiddled with her fingers in her lap a bit while trying to figure out how to start the conversation. "Harry, you remember the stories I've told you of Lily – your Mum – and your father?" After he gave a nod of acknowledgment, she continued. "They were special people, Harry. They could do special things. Magical things."

Harry felt his curiosity pique. "What kind of magical things?" he almost whispered in response.

Shifting a bit due to her nervousness, Petunia said quietly, "Magic, Harry. They could do magic."

"Like the blokes down in London?"

"No. Those are street performers, dear. I'm talking about real magic. Harry, your Mum was a witch and your Dad was a wizard."

Harry just stared back at her with a guarded look. Maybe he was just tired. Maybe his Mum was not feeling well. Whatever it was, what she said didn't make any sense at all.

Petunia slowly withdrew the envelope from her pocket and placed it on the bed between them. "Maybe we should open this together," she offered in a quiet voice.

Harry looked at the envelope with the funny green ink. It was addressed to him, but not like any other address he had seen before. It said, "Harry Potter, Small Bedroom on the 2nd Floor, 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey". That seemed awfully specific...

Gingerly turning it over he saw a coat of arms on the back along with "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry" emblazoned around it. His hands started to shake and he looked uncertainly at his Mum. "Wh-what is this?" he stuttered out.

"It's your acceptance letter, telling you that you're a wizard and that they want you to attend their school."

"Did … did Mum and Dad get a letter like this?"

Petunia shifted again, knowing where this conversation was going. She tried to collect her thoughts in order to keep the jealousy from rising up again. "Yes, they did."

"Did … did you get a letter like this?" Harry asked, turning to look up at her.

"No, I did not."

"Why?"

"Because … because I'm not special like your Mum was," she whispered as tears began to form.

Harry studied the woman who had been her Mum for as long as he could remember. She had told him how his parents died so long ago, and how he had been left on their doorstep. How she took him in despite the fact they had Dudley and that Vernon was against it. And how ultimately, she chose Dudley and Harry over Vernon in the end. That's why they were alone now; why she had to work so hard.

He slowly scooted out from under the covers and put his arms around his Mum. "I think you're special," he whispered and held her tight.

Petunia always knew Harry was a caring and sensitive boy, but this act left her shuddering as she tried to hold in her sobs. After several minutes passed she released her hug and looked at her Son, "Thank you," she whispered.

Clearing her throat, she collected her thoughts back to the subject at hand. Gesturing to the letter, she directed, "You should open that. Let's see what it says."

Harry did as requested and placed the letter on the bed between them so they could both read it. After reading it again and thinking about the words a moment, he turned to his Mum and spoke. "So … what do they teach there? Where is this school? How did they know I'm a wizard?"

Sighing slightly, Petunia realized she was about to face a host of questions about a subject she only knew a little bit about. "Well, I imagine they teach you how to do magic there. I believe Lily said the school was up north … in Scotland I recall." She scrunched up her face, trying to unbury those few stilted conversations she had with her sister about the wizarding world. "As for how they know you're a wizard? I assume it's because of your parents." She shrugged, indicating that was a 'best guess'.

Harry pondered all of this new information. _"Me? A wizard? I could perform magic?"_ The idea was pretty cool, even though he had no idea what that meant. But going to school in Scotland and being away from home? He really didn't like the sound of that. He liked his school, his friends, his Mum; even Dudley was actually a pretty good brother.

"What if … what if … I don't want to go?" Harry meekly said. He didn't want his Mum to be disappointed in him, but at the same time he wasn't sure if all the tradeoffs were worth it.

For some reason Petunia felt relief – like a tremendous weight had been lifted off of her. But she felt torn; Harry had a gift and he wasn't going to use it? "Why wouldn't you want to go?" she replied, trying to sound as neutral as possible.

"Well … I like it here," Harry started slowly, still looking down at the letter on his bed. "I have friends, I like the school. And it's so far away and I'll miss you and Dudley. I have no idea what magic is about and it sounds cool, but I could hate it. I could be terrible at it."

"What if this was your only chance to know about it – know about magic? Does it scare you that much?" Petunia could hardly believe she was defending the world she hated, but felt it was Harry's decision. She needed to make sure he was making his decision for the right reasons.

If anything, Harry became even smaller upon hearing this. "I … I don't want to lose you Mum. Besides, I don't know if I want to know about magic. My parents died because of magic…" he trailed off, sounding like the scared, almost 11-year-old boy he was.

Petunia gathered him in another hug and held him for a few minutes. "I won't make you go. If you don't want to go, we can decline. I just wanted to make sure you thought about your decision. Maybe you should sleep on it and we can talk more tomorrow?"

Harry tried to let the sniffles subside. Finally he murmured, "I've decided, Mum. I'm not going."


	2. Chapter 2

**A Visitor in the Magical Kingdom**

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**Chapter 2: Persuasion**

Minerva checked her watch and rolled her eyes. Of all the mundane jobs she had as Deputy Headmistress of the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, this one ranked right up there. Each summer near the end of July she would unlock the records room in the castle, signaling that preparations were to begin for another school year. Her first task was to determine who would be invited to start their magical education at Hogwarts.

The fun part was always the beginning. Looking in the wizarding records book that recorded the births of magical babies would bring back memories of past classmates – now past students, but Minerva chose not to dwell on that. This year brought several names she recognized, along with more bittersweet memories than in years past. Along with the standard families she saw over and over – another Weasley! – she noticed a Longbottom and a Potter. These two families were hit particularly hard during the last war and represented the last surviving members of their lineage.

After compiling the list of eligible students, she went about drafting the form letter explaining how they were invited to study at Hogwarts. Due to magic, this wasn't a hard task as she only had to write one letter and make copies. The only time-consuming portion was writing in each name on her registry. Somehow, the book knew their current residence; another mystery created by the Hogwarts founders that no one could explain how exactly it worked.

The monotonous portion of this task occurred a couple days later, as responses would pour in. Minerva had long ago used magic to automatically record the responses in ledgers and send out the standard equipment lists to new students. The only 'manual' activities she now had to perform were for the upper classes; the soon-to-be 6th years who were receiving OWL results and those chosen to be either a prefect or quidditch captain.

Checking her watch again, she realized it was time for a meeting of the head teachers. She quickly snapped up the first year ledger of those that accepted the invitation and headed to the Headmaster's office.

"Good evening Minerva," Albus intoned. "I'm glad you saw fit to join us this evening." His eyes sparkled with barely-contained mirth as a thin frown settled on his Deputy Headmistress' face. This was quickly followed by a rather rude hand gesture which brought chuckles from most of those in attendance. The summer definitely brought out the inner child of this group! Straightening up to take on a more serious air, the Headmaster started the meeting. "Minerva, I see you have the list of new students we'll be seeing this fall. Let's start by dividing up visitation responsibilities." Each new child to Hogwarts would be greeted individually by a teacher so they could answer any questions the family may have. If they were muggle-born, that teacher would also escort them to Diagon Alley in order to show them the magical shopping district and help them buy school supplies.

After an hour, all 47 new students had been assigned to a teacher and travel schedules were aligned. Albus was a bit saddened to have such a small group coming to Hogwarts this year but knew it was inevitable. 1980 had been one of the darkest years in the battle against Voldemort so magical children – especially muggle-born magical children – were few and far between. Nevertheless he looked forward to the sorting and seeing the progenies of friends and colleagues filter through the doors. With a sigh he began counting down to September 1st.

* * *

The welcoming feast was smashing as usual. While the group was small, there were several intriguing students entering Hogwarts that brought both excitement and dread. Severus seemed particularly pleased with the 'haul' Slytherin received this year, even if Albus himself was a little less excited due to their parents' … questionable … associates when they were younger.

Albus' happy reverie was broken when Minerva, sitting on his left, suddenly dropped her fork and sucked in a breath. The rest of the hall grew silent – this was most unusual behavior for the unflappable Deputy Headmistress. With wide, panicked eyes she turned to Albus and blurted out, "I must speak with you right now!" As she whirled around to get up, she added in a loud stage whisper, "In private!"

Rolling his eyes, at her antics, Albus dropped his napkin on the table and gestured for the rest of the professors to remain seated and enjoy the meal; he would straighten this out quick enough. Entering an antechamber behind the staff table, he let out an exasperated sigh. "What are you on about, Minerva?"

With trembling hands she exerted a vice-like grip on the Headmaster's arm. "Albus, I remember seeing a name in the registry that didn't come through the sorting. I don't think his letter went unanswered so I can only imagine he refused to come! But why? What should we do?"

Thoroughly confused, Albus gently pushed Minerva into a chair and attempted to wrestle his arm free from her grasp. Unsuccessful, he leaned against the nearby table to keep from falling over and glared at the woman. "Slow down, Minerva; who didn't accept admission?"

With wide eyes and a now-calm voice, she quietly responded, "Harry Potter."

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Usually the morning of September 2nd meant enjoying a fine breakfast as the students chatted excitedly to another, awaiting their schedules so classes could begin. This morning, however, Albus and Minerva were grimacing under the unusually warm sun and slightly polluted air in Surrey. They arrived in Little Whinging, managed to navigate the maze of cookie-cutter houses to Privet Drive, and were now standing on the plastic welcome mat of house #4. The neighbors out and about were unabashedly staring at the old man with long gray hair – both on his head and on his face – in a purple robe and pointy hat, along with the stern-looking woman dressed in similar black attire.

Heavy footsteps approached to answer their knocking and the door swung open to reveal a round boy with dark eyes, sandy hair, and a sleepy look on his face. Taking in their odd appearance, he closed the door a little bit and tried to hide behind it before asking, "Erm … what do you want?"

Trying to muster as much grandfatherly charm as he could, Albus looked down at the boy and pleasantly replied, "Good morning my dear boy, is your mother or father home?"

Nodding mutely, the boy slowly backed away from the door, eyes wide and senses now on alert. After about 5 paces, he abruptly turned with surprising agility and tore down the hallway toward the back of the house. A moment later a flustered-looking woman emerged, wiping away dribbles of coffee from her shirt with a rag. She reached the door and stopped dead in her tracks, staring at the visitors as her mouth opened in a silent _'Oh!'_ of surprise.

* * *

After her shock wore off, Petunia ushered the visitors into the kitchen where an informal meeting took place around the table. Putting down his coffee, Albus finished his tale of recent events. "So that's when we became most distressed that perhaps there had been some mistake. We apologize for that, but are happy to escort Harry to Hogwarts now."

Petunia and the boys, who had been politely listening to this odd man ramble on for the last couple of minutes, turned to look at each other. Sensing it was her motherly duty, Petunia took the point. "I see there has been confusion, but I'm afraid no mistake. We did receive your letter and we did reply in kind. Harry chose not to attend Hogwarts."

"But he must come to Hogwarts!" Albus blurted out, groaning inwardly at his lack of tact.

"That is nothing of the sort that he must do," Petunia evenly replied, trying to hold back the venom in her voice.

Minerva decided to try and help her flailing boss a bit. "Harry, why don't you want to come to Hogwarts?"

Up to this point, Harry was happy to let his Mum handle this issue. These people were odd, especially the old man, and he felt uncomfortable having to speak to them now. Squirming in his seat and playing with his now-cold eggs, he mumbled out a reply with his head bowed toward the table.

"Speak up, dear. We can't hear you" Petunia encouraged.

Putting a bit more volume into it, Harry tried again. "It's just that I like it here in Surrey. I don't want to leave my Mum and brother."

"But you can learn so much, Harry. You have special talents and we only want to give you the opportunity to learn how to use them."

Harry could feel his face turning red under the scrutiny of the older woman. She was pleasant enough, but in a strict, no-nonsense kind of way. "But ma'am, I don't know if I'll like magic. I could be terrible at it."

"I doubt that. I taught both of your parents and they were excellent students. I'm sure you will be just as talented at magic as they were."

More silence. Finally a small voice whispered, "But it's safe here. My Mum and Dad died in that world, and you left me here without ever coming back. Mum and Dudley took care of me and they are all I have now; I don't want to lose them."

Albus and Minerva exchanged a look, then glanced over at Petunia. She was rubbing Harry's back with one hand and squeezing the life out of her fork with the other. Minerva never had her own children, but still knew what that look meant; they were not going to win this argument.

Albus, apparently, had no such insight. "But Harry – " he started. Petunia quickly cut him off.

"Dudders, did you remember your cricket bat today?"

"Yes Mum," he replied, rummaging through his school bag for a moment before withdrawing the bat victoriously. Petunia then smirked an evil smile at her son, who after a beat, returned it with equal malevolence.

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Albus limped down the sidewalk, muttering about snotty kids and their stupid toys. "Just a few more blocks and we will be out of view of the muggles. Then we can get you all fixed up," Minerva consoled in a mothering voice, trying desperately to hide her smile.


	3. Chapter 3

**A Visitor in the Magical Kingdom**

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**Chapter 3: Strike Two**

Harry Potter came bounding down the stairs and, seeing breakfast already on the table, slid into one of the chairs before calling out, "Good morning, Mum!"

Petunia turned from the sink and returned, "Good morning to you, birthday boy!" Her little Harry was growing up and, while definitely starting to act more like a teenager, was still at his core a very sweet boy.

Dudley came stumbling down a couple minutes later, delivering a mumbled "Happy birthday" to his brother with a somewhat-good-natured punch to the arm. He plopped down in one of the chairs and promptly started shoveling food into his mouth with his right hand while using his left to prop his head up. Petunia shot a glare at Dudley, wishing he wasn't turning into a teenager so quickly. Not that he was paying attention to his Mum's displeasure, but it made Petunia feel better anyway.

"So are you boys ready to go? I would like to get to the station with plenty of time to spare."

This jolted Dudley out of his morning haze and caused him to stammer out, "Erm … y-yeah, I'm ready. Let me just make sure I have everything I need …" With that he hustled out of his chair and up the stairs before loud bangs and thumps emanated from his room.

Petunia rolled her eyes at her son's antics before turning back to her breakfast. While they were always tight on money, she did like to do something fun every summer that the boys would enjoy. This year she decided to head to Brighton for a long weekend. It wasn't particularly far away and nowhere near an exotic location, but there were enough things to do there that the boys were excited to go nonetheless.

"Dudley, please come down before we're late! And can you grab my bag off the bed?" Turning, she asked, "Harry, can you finish the dishes? I'll go put your bag and the food in the car."

Petunia struggled to hold Harry's bag, the grocery bag, and her keys all at once. After fighting for a bit to turn the door knob, she managed to open the door just enough to wedge her foot into the opening. Flinging the door out of her way, she promptly screamed, dropping everything she was holding. On the other side of the door, frozen in place with his hand out to knock, was Albus Dumbledore.

* * *

Minerva was not in a good mood. "Honestly, Albus! Why did you have to pick the hottest day of the year to come out here?"

Albus, not in a fine mood either, tried to patiently answer, "Today is Harry's birthday, Minerva. I thought the family might be in a better mood and therefore be more open to our message."

Minerva couldn't help but roll her eyes at her boss. For being one of the best wizards the world had seen, he could surely be thick sometimes. Grunting quietly, she continued down the sidewalk in her long black dress, wishing Harry Potter lived much farther north. Of course she didn't want to think about her own moment of stupidity; forgetting to cast a cooling charm on herself before entering the muggle neighborhood.

Finally arriving back to Privet Drive and standing on the plastic welcome mat, Albus tried to mop away the sweat that formed on his brow. He too wished he remembered to cast a cooling charm, and at this moment was regretting his choice of a purple woolen suit jacket and pants. Mentally cursing his forgetfulness he raised his hand to knock when he heard what sounded like scratching on the other side of the door. Turning to shoot McGonagall a quizzical look – which she returned, equally confused – he turned back to the door just in time to see it fly open and Petunia give a scream before a dumping her belongings on the floor.

* * *

Harry and Dudley came running when they heard their Mum scream and skidded to a halt to take in the scene in front of them. "Oh … it's you guys again …" Dudley said with some distate.

Petunia recovered enough to scowl at the unwanted visitors before turning to her sons, "Harry, Dudley, please help me clean this up and take the items to the car. We need to get to the station. Go!" Recognizing their Mum's 'Angry Voice' they hustled to work.

Not be deterred, Albus started in on his mission. "I'm sorry to have startled you Petunia, but I'm afraid we must speak to you regarding Harry."

"I'm afraid we must get to the train station straightaway. Besides, I believe we already told you our intentions last year?" Petunia tried her best to remain civil, but her patience was wearing thin due to their schedule.

Albus looked dejected for a moment before his eyes began to twinkle. "Perhaps we could accompany you to the station and discuss this enroute?"

Petunia could no longer hold back and glared daggers at the old man. On one hand she would have to deal with these irritating people for the 15 minutes or so it took to get to the station and however long they insisted they talk her ear off whilst waiting for the train. However, she would have an automatic way to end the discussion and hopefully wouldn't be bothered again. For this year at least…

With one stiff nod, Petunia gave her assent. "Fine. I'll have Harry sit in the front with me though."

"Where going by car?" Minerva blurted out with trepidation in her voice. She stared back and forth between the vehicle sitting on the driveway and Albus, hoping he wouldn't take Petunia up on these arrangements.

Albus, seemingly oblivious to the Deputy Headmistress' distress, quickly agreed. "Splendid! Is there anything you need me to help with?"

Petunia regarded the man coldly. "No, I think you've done enough. Harry! In the front. Dudley! You'll be in the back with our … guests."

Dudley groaned in annoyance and stamped his foot once on the ground. "Just because you're the birthday boy I have to ride in the stupid back seat with the freaks," he growled before shoving Harry and stalking off to the car.

"Albus, I don't want to ride in the car!" McGonagall pleaded, genuine fear showing in her eyes.

"Minerva, it's perfectly safe. I promise."

Petunia, overhearing the conversation, looked over to Harry and began to smirk an evil smile. Harry, cottoning on to his Mum's intentions, nodded his head slightly before arranging his features into an innocent look. "Dud, make sure you're belted in securely."

Dudley, still grumbling about his less-than-choice seating arrangement, looked toward his brother. Harry returned his questioning look with a serious nod, causing Dudley's formerly sour look to slowly melt away.

* * *

Arriving at the station, Dudley leapt out of the car practically before it came to a stop. Minerva staggered out behind him, a light green tinge to her features. "Don't spew on me, ma'am!" Dudley shrieked, getting as far away from the woman as he could.

Minerva fell to a sitting position on the ground, leaning up against the car and moaning softly. For his part, Albus thoroughly enjoyed the trip to the train station. "It's just like the Gringott's carts!" he kept exclaiming to his petrified colleague.

After a few moments to compose herself, McGonagall's stern demeanor returned and she glared darkly at Albus. "Help me up, Dumbledore," she commanded acidly.

Looking properly abashed, Albus complied and the two educators turned toward the assembled Evans/Dursley/Potter clan. "Thank you so much for they enjoyable ride and conversation," Albus started, earning a 'humph!' out of McGonagall. Ignoring her, he continued, "So Harry, have you decided to attend Hogwarts?"

Petunia looked over to her son, indicating it was his decision to make. Harry sighed, then turned to the old man. "Yes sir, I've decided. I've decided to not attend Hogwarts, just like I told you last year."

"But Harry -"

"You heard his answer," Petunia interrupted. "Now we have a train to catch so we will bid you good day. Boys, come along." She shepherded them away from the witch and wizard into the train station, leaving a disappointed Albus and a still-angry Minerva in their wake.

Minerva gave her boss a look of loathing before departing the station without a word, looking for a secluded spot to apparate back to the castle. Albus watched her depart, sighed deeply, and rubbed his face. Minerva was a good woman, but had the memory of an elephant; he would be in her doghouse for a while. Slowly he trudged off in her direction, dreading what awaited him when he got back to the castle.

* * *

Turning the corner so they were out of eyesight, Petunia grabbed a startled Harry and drew him into a deep hug. Just as quickly, she released Harry and declared, "I'm off to get our tickets, so please wait right here."

The boys could only gape at their Mum before Dudley broke the silence. "Women," he muttered, slowly shaking his head.


	4. Chapter 4

**A Visitor in the Magical Kingdom**

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**Chapter 4: Warnings and Revelations**

"Minerva, I was wondering if you wouldn't mind accompanying me for a trip on this fine summer day," the headmaster intoned, eyes sparkling.

McGonagall, who up to this point had been enjoying her book and tea out on the Hogwarts grounds, glared up at her boss. "Why?" she asked with an icy finish to her voice. After two months of near constant begging, she had finally forgiven Albus for the last trip they took together about a year ago. But it was summer – her time. She shouldn't have to deal with being at his beck and call during the summer.

Albus' twinkle dimmed a bit as he realized this conversation was going to require more tact than he originally anticipated. _"I knew that woman had the memory of an elephant"_ he mentally chided. Arranging his face into a hopefully innocent look, he replied, "I'm afraid we need to speak to Harry Potter straightaway. It's for his own safety."

Minerva snorted in disgust. "Oh, now it's for his safety? I don't believe the gall you possess, _headmaster_!" She nearly spat out the last word in such derision Albus used nearly all the power he had to keep from stomping away.

Taking a deep breath, he returned to the 'conversation'. "You must not have heard the news yet, Minerva; otherwise you would see I really do have noble intentions."

Fighting to keep from rolling her eyes, McGonagall did attempt to be a bit more civil. "Alright Albus, I'll humor you. What happened that is so important to Potter's safety?"

The twinkle came back full force as Albus knew he would gain his cohort for the journey to Surrey. "Sirius Black has escaped from Azkaban."

* * *

Petunia glanced over to her two boys as she trimmed up the rose bushes in the front yard. Harry was pushing the lawn mower over the grass, seemingly oblivious to the world due to the headphones covering his ears. _"Probably more of that loud, obnoxious music"_ Petunia sighed mentally. Harry was still a good boy, but he was 13 now. And like most 13 year olds, seemingly overnight he became interested in music and girls and trying to be cool. Thankfully his demeanor hadn't really changed, but his priorities certainly shifted.

Dudley was trimming the hedges, sweat pouring off of his round face. He also was plugged in and was a bit more demonstrative in his enjoyment of the music. He bopped his head up and down and occasionally belted out some off-tune lyrics that, quite frankly, made Petunia blanch at their lewdness. Shaking her head, she hoped the poor hedge would survive this experience.

After a few more minutes of pruning she heard the lawnmower suddenly cut out followed by Dudley groaning, "Really? You have to come and hear the same bloody answer every summer?"

* * *

"You're kidding, right?" Harry finally responded after hearing the far-fetched story the old man spun.

"I swear on my magic that everything I have said is absolutely true," Albus responded solemnly. It had taken quite a bit of cajoling on his part before they received a grudgingly-given entry into Number 4 Privet Drive. If Albus was honest with himself, he would have to admit it was really Minerva's persuasion that allowed them this audience. _"But I managed the situation well. Besides, I'm the one that convinced her to come in the first place,"_ he mentally reassured himself.

"Swear on my magic – what does that even mean?" muttered Dudley. The headmaster shot a dirty look at the boy, unconsciously rubbing his shin where the brat had swatted him with a cricket bat two years ago.

Minerva rolled her eyes, knowing what petty things were filling Dumbledore's head. Trying to get the conversation back on track, she started, "Harry, Sirius represents a very real threat to you and your family. We strongly encourage you to come to Hogwarts where we can protect you."

Harry sighed and rubbed his face. "What about Aunt Petunia and Dudley? Could they come to?"

Albus shifted a bit in his seat, uncomfortable about where this conversation would lead. "I'm afraid we cannot allow that, Harry. Since they aren't magical, having them at Hogwarts for an extended period of time would be difficult for all involved."

"So what would you do to protect them, then?" Harry slowly questioned, his eyes darting back and forth between the headmaster and McGonagall.

Desperately trying to think of a way to spin this, Albus replied, "Well … we could announce to the wizarding world that you were coming to Hogwarts at last. That way Sirius would not even come to Surrey." The headmaster was pleasantly surprised at just how much sense that made to him. _"Point for me!"_ he mentally congratulated himself.

Aunt Petunia's face scrunched up in confusion and she cocked her head to the side. "But he's an escaped convict. It's not like he will be hanging out in the shops talking about the latest news and gossip. How would he even know that Harry wasn't here?"

The headmaster and McGonagall exchanged a look. Nodding slightly, Minerva started in. "Because of Sirius' past, he'll likely have people willing to help him; to take him in, if you will. He'll find out." She reached across the table to pat Petunia's arm comfortingly.

"So this Hogwarts place is safe?" she asked.

"Very much so. It's probably the safest place in the wizarding world," Albus replied.

"So over the last couple of years, there have been no incidents or dangerous situations?"

Albus furrowed his brow and began absently stroking his beard. "Well, for the most part I would say that's true. Wouldn't you agree, Minerva?"

McGonagall glared daggers at the old man as everyone's attention shifted to her. _"Fine. He wants me to answer, so I'll answer,"_ growled Minerva's thoughts. "Overall, I would say we managed the situations as best we could," she replied in a clipped voice.

"Mum, what does that mean?" asked a confused Dudley. He glanced over to his Mum to see her eyes narrowed and her jaw set in anger.

"Explain. Now," she demanded.

Albus, disgusted at the Deputy Headmistress' evasive answer, attempted to remain placid toward the now-suspicious Petunia. "There were a couple of … unusual … occurrences the past two years. But I guided the school through those storms as successfully as one could hope under the circumstances."

"Try again, Dumbledore. If Harry had gone to Hogwarts the first year you approached us, what happened in the school that year?" Petunia demanded.

Grimacing at the memories of that disastrous year, he sighed heavily. "That year we had to keep a very magical object safe," he started.

"Hmph! More like chose to take in a magical object," Minerva muttered.

Albus shot a most-loathing look toward Minerva out of the corner of his eye. Thankfully Petunia didn't seem to hear this, but it looked like Harry might have. Continuing on, he said, "We had necessary safeguards in place to protect this object, but one of the creatures protecting it got loose and came in contact with a student."

"Creatures?" gulped Dudley. "Wha – what kind of creature?"

"A mountain troll."

"Oh, those little guys dressed in green who supposedly come from Ireland?" Dudley asked, relaxing at the mental image. _"Those aren't so bad,"_ he thought.

"No, those are leprechauns," Harry clarified. "Trolls are … what are trolls exactly?"

"They're larger creatures, but not very bright," Minerva supplied.

"How large is 'large'?" Petunia ground out.

"Umm … about 8 feet tall. Maybe 25 stone?"

"And one of these creatures attacked a student?!?" Petunia shrieked.

Albus flinched visibly at the hysterical woman's wrath. He dared not speak, so he merely nodded slightly before cringing away from her impending response.

He was lucky however. Petunia's jaw dropped and three pairs of eyes grew wide in shock. "Is the student … alive?" Petunia whispered.

Minerva again reached out to comfort the woman. "We got to her in time. She did spend some time in the infirmary, but she recovered. We removed the troll immediately."

"I should hope so. Were there any other incidents that year?"

Again Albus shifted in his chair uncomfortably. "Well, we had a professor attempt to steal this object, but he was unsuccessful."

Petunia began rubbing her head, feeling a migraine coming to the fore. "And why did this professor try to do that?"

"He … er … was possessed by Voldemort."

"The bloke that killed my parents?" Harry blurted out incredulously.

Again choosing to nod rather than speak, Albus braced himself once more for an explosion.

Sighing heavily while still rubbing her head, Petunia sat back in her chair and regarded the two professors in front of her. "Okay …" she started, trying to calm herself down. "Tell me about last year then. What happened at the school last year?"

At this point Albus refused to speak and tilted his head toward McGonagall. He had enough abuse for one trip. Besides, the deputy headmistress was still upset at him for last year's trip; he could endure a few more months of frosty relations between the two.

McGonagall, realizing the old man's tactics, gave him a look of such hate that the headmaster unconsciously crossed his legs to protect his manhood. Turning to Petunia she replied, "It was not a good year."

Harry sat watching the two women seemingly communicate just through their looks. Despite his better judgment, he spoke up. "So … what happened?"

"We believe a student was under the influence of a spell – sort of like being hypnotized. That student, in their compromised judgment, released a deadly beast in the school. Unfortunately one student died and several were petrified before the beast could be killed."

"Petrified?" Dudley squeaked out.

"Yes. They were alive but were rigid like a statue. We were able to treat them this spring and they're all okay now. Well, except for the girl who died," Minerva trailed off uncomfortably.

At this all three members of the house looked at each other and rose at once. "Out! Now!" Petunia barked, sending the two professors scurrying down the hall and out the front door.

* * *

That afternoon the denizens of Little Whinging watched with amusement as a man in a purple suit and long white beard and a woman in a high-collared black dress fled from two teenage boys. Along with them, a large black dog decided to join in the chase to happily nip at their heels.


	5. Chapter 5

**A Visitor in the Magical Kingdom**

* * *

**Chapter 5: COPS: Little Whinging Style**

Harry and Dudley slowly made their way back to Number 4 Privet Drive, wiping their sweaty faces off with their shirts.

"Well … that was fun," Dudley commented with a light tone. The boys had just managed to chase off that old man and woman – again – from Little Whinging.

Harry rolled his eyes at the bigger boy. "You think they would get the hint, wouldn't you? For being that old, you think they would have learned that if a person says 'no', they generally mean 'no'."

"Maybe they're going all wonky? What's that called … demented? Old people get that way, you know."

"Dementia, Dudley. It's called Dementia," Harry corrected while sniggering slightly.

"Piss off," the larger boy groused, shoving into his decidedly-skinnier brother and successfully knocking him into the hedge in front of Mrs. Andrews' house.

Before Dudley had time to gloat, he heard the angry growl of a dog – a large, black dog that had intermittently been trailing after them as they chased the professors down the street. "Oh shite, it's Cujo!" Dudley screamed before taking off down the drive toward the hopeful safety of his mum.

Harry, just now extracting himself from the hedge, stared back at the angry canine with wide eyes. The dog looked at him straightaway and seemed momentarily torn between chasing after the boy running down the street and locking in on the skinny boy in the hedge. Harry could almost hear the dilemma the dog pondered – _"Chasing after the first boy would be harder, but he's fatter and meatier. The skinny boy may not taste as good, but it would be easier hunting."_

"Choose the fat boy, choose the fat boy," Harry unconsciously began to mumble. No luck – the dog turned toward Harry.

Much to his surprise, the bared teeth disappeared and the dog looked at him with a cocked head but didn't advance further. The stare-off continued for a few seconds before Harry absently brushed the sweat and leaves away from his face, thinking he might be in the clear after all.

This seemed to trigger the beast though. The canine snapped rigid for a moment with an almost startled look, then lunged at Harry.

"Arrgh!" Harry screamed out and was immediately flatted back into the hedge he just extracted himself from. Despite his ministrations, Harry could not fend off the beast as it attacked him in a whirl of black fur and flying drool.

* * *

"Mum! Mum!" Dudley screamed as he came huffing back into the yard. Petunia turned, horrified at the fear in her son's voice. "A big black dog just attacked Harry! We've got to help him!"

Petunia froze in fear for a moment – not her Harry! She grabbed a spade she had cast aside from her earlier gardening and directed Dudley to scoop up the hedge shears. "Where is he?" she demanded in a hard voice.

"D-down by Mrs. An-Andrews …" Nodding once and setting her jaw, she grabbed Dudley's arm and dragged him back to the scene. Hearing Harry's scream in the distance only quickened her pace.

* * *

Petunia was always a take-charge kind of woman, but those traits only strengthened after Vernon left her to raise two boys. If someone – or something – tried to harm her boys and she had some ability to defend them, God have mercy on their soon-to-be-departed soul!

Sirius was experiencing this first-hand. He was unaware of the woman and large boy approaching him. He was also unaware when the woman screamed like a banshee, spade drawn high above her head and gripped tightly in both hands. When she lowered that spade into his exposed flank – now that he was aware of. Painfully aware. "Get – your – dirty – paws – off – my – son!" she screamed out, punctuating her message with a blow from the spade each time.

Sirius had no choice. He couldn't get up and run away from this crazy woman because she was lightning quick with that damn spade. He couldn't attack her because that would require him to somehow get turned around. The thought of that spade whacking him in the side of the head moved that idea to the back burner rather hastily. So he did the only thing he could think of doing; he turned into a man.

"Stop! Please for the love of Merlin stop!" he screamed as he cradled his head and tried not to think about the inevitable trip back to Azkaban. Although perhaps being kissed would be a preferable ending than being beaten to a bloody pulp by a mad woman with a spade…

* * *

Harry knew this was the end. It had to be. The big dog was surprisingly strong and there was nothing Harry could do except throw his arms in front of his face and hope he didn't get mauled too badly. Or maybe he should just let the dog chomp his neck and end it quickly. Some choice.

But he didn't feel the sharp teeth. And the growling seemed … friendlier … than it had earlier. Harry didn't really have time to dwell on these findings as he heard a scream – was that his mum Petunia? – and felt the blows someone was administering to his attacker, partially softened by the black shaggy mass on top of him.

Then things got weird. Maybe he was hallucinating. But he could have sworn the dog turned into a … man. A dirty, crazy looking man with scraggly hair and torn clothes. And this man was lying on top of him. Under a hedge.

Whether due to the trauma of the attack or the trauma of this new situation, Harry promptly passed out.

* * *

Petunia's eyes were wide and the spade was frozen above her head, poised for her next swing. Dudley, trying to cower behind a fire plug, emitted a soft squeak before finally finding his voice. "Mum? D-did that d-dog just t-turn into a … b-bloke?"

Rather than deal with the police, Petunia decided to lead this motley crew back to Number 4 Privet Drive. She tenderly picked up Harry while Dudley marched behind the hobbled, scary looking man with the hedge shears. Thankfully only one or two neighbors shot them nervous glances before they made it safely through the door.

* * *

Sirius was ordered to sit in the kitchen chair while Dudley was given a roll of duct tape and told to 'have at it' by his Mum, who now brandished the hedge shears. Dudley gleefully complied, effectively making Sirius an Egyptian mummy of tape but leaving his eyes and nose free. Precious little else was left uncovered.

While Dudley was immobilizing the man, Harry had come around. "Oh Harry, my little boy! Are you okay?" Petunia cried out as she nearly strangled her sister's progeny to death.

"Mum! I'm fine Mum!" Harry choked out while trying desperately to escape the woman's clutches.

After running a tender hand through his hair, Petunia turned and immediately took on a harsh glare. "Who are you?" she spat out.

Sirius struggled against the tape bonds for a bit before rolling his eyes and then casting them down with an urgent look. Petunia cocked her head to the side for a few moments, trying to understand what this strange man was up to.

"Erm, Mum? There's tape over his mouth," Harry quietly offered from his position beside her.

"Oh! Right…"

After some tugging by both Dudley and Petunia, a ragged tear in the tape now allowed the man's lips and teeth to be visible. Somehow this made him look more forboding and the Evans/Dursley/Potter clan unconsciously took a step back.

"I'm Sirius Black," the man managed to choke out. "I'm Harry's godfather."

Looking nonplussed, Petunia exchanged a look with Harry. Dudley vocalized what they were thinking. "You seem to attract the freaks, don't you Harry?"

Harry took a deep sigh and scrubbed his face with his hand. "I take it you're a wizard, then?" he asked after calming himself. Sirius nodded mutely in reply. "And you are able to turn yourself into a dog I take it?" Another nod. "Is this normal?" This time he was answered with a shake rather than a nod.

"Your father and I … and _Peter_!" he spit this name out with hatred, "Learned how to do this in school."

"So my father could turn himself into a dog as well?" Harry asked, failing to keep the curiosity out of his voice.

"No. He turned into a stag."

After another round of shocked looks and minor exclamations of "huh!" and "wow!", the residents of the house turned to look at the dirty man in front of them. "How do we know you're telling the truth?" Petunia asked, narrowing her eyes in suspicion at Sirius.

"Veritaserum."

Petunia was silent for a beat, expecting more of an answer. When none came, she shot a quizzical look to Harry. He responded with wide eyes and a shug, equally baffled.

"What's that?" she snapped back at Sirius.

"Truth-telling potion."

"So … do you have some?"

"In my pocket. Knicked it from Knockturn Alley."

After anxious looks all around, the two boys began tearing holes in the tape at various places, playing an unsettling game of 'hot and cold' with Sirius, before finally being rewarded with a vial of clear liquid.

"It looks like water," Dudley commented as he held it up to the light. "How do we know this stuff really works?"

"Three drops on your tongue."

Petunia looked apprehensive. _" What if it was a poison? But three drops … that can't be enough to poison someone, right?"_

As they were pondering the vial, Sirius cleared his throat. "Erm … I don't know if it works on Muggles. Maybe Harry better take it."

This did not soothe Petunia's nerves and she looked toward Harry. Harry was gazing at Sirius, a calculating look across his face. Nodding his head slowly, he turned to his Mum, "Fine, I'll take it."

"Wait!" Petunia called out. "Let's give it to him first and write down his answers. That way if it's poison he'll suffer. We can then give it to you afterward to verify if it works."

"That's brilliant, Mum!" Dudley called out and before anyone could react had removed the stopper and dribbled a few drops into Sirius' mouth. Immediately his eyes took on a hazy, faraway look. Silently, Petunia and Harry had a battle over who would do the questioning, with Petunia winning.

"What is your full name?"

"Sirius Orion Black."

"Where did you come from?"

"I came from Azkaban." Even though they expected this answer, they still shuddered a bit as they remembered the conversation with Dumbledore and McGonagall earlier today.

"Erm … what's Azkaban?" Petunia asked, hoping to draw Sirius into a lie.

"Wizarding prison."

"Why are you in prison?"

"I was accused of killing Harry's parents, then killing a bunch of muggles and Peter Pettigrew."

"Did you do it?" Dudley blurted out, then immediately slapped his hand to his mouth.

"No. Peter did."

Petunia shook her head in confusion. "So this Peter committed suicide?"

"No. Faked his death."

"If you've been in prison, how do you know this?"

"Saw his picture in the paper."

"Why didn't you tell the authorities or your barrister?"

"Never got a trial."

Immediately three breaths were sucked in simultaneously. Harry stared incredulously at the man taped to their kitchen chair. "Why not?" he whispered.

"The government wanted to be seen taking care of the issue."

Petunia regained her composure then turned to give a fierce look over to Harry. "I'm never going to let you join the magical world! They're a bunch of murderous fools!"

"Don't worry, Mum. I have no desire to join after hearing even more of their dealings," Harry replied with a disgusted mutter.

Sirius meanwhile was breaking out of the effects of the veritaserum. Again the three occupants of Number 4 Privet Drive took an unconscious step backward. Petunia then glanced at Dudley and the vial in his hand. Dudley slowly went over to Harry and dribbled a little more of the liquid on his tongue. Immediately the potion took hold and Harry was now gazing unfocused toward a spot on the cupboards.

"What is your full name?" Petunia started, but in a much kinder voice than she used on Sirius.

"Harry James Potter."

"When were you born?"

"July 31, 1980"

"Erm …" Petunia started racking her brain. _"What would Harry possibly lie about? He's always been a good boy …"_

"Did you really kiss Abby Murray after the football match vs. St. Georges?" Dudley chimed in with a smirk.

"No." Here Harry hesitated for a moment before replying, "It was Miranda Tait."

Silence reigned in the kitchen while Petunia looked at Harry, gobsmacked. Finally Dudley started laughing with glee. "This stuff is great!"


	6. Chapter 6

**A Visitor in the Magical Kingdom**

* * *

**Chapter 6: Two Roads Diverged …**

As Harry's eyes slowly became more focused, Petunia once again exerted control over the situation. "Dudley!" she snapped. "Calm yourself." The large boy, who had been pounding the table in glee while cackling madly, immediately tried to school his features into an innocent look. Judging by his bright red face and quivering cheeks, he was failing. Spectacularly.

"Harry!" she barked at her other son. This jerked him out of the last vestiges of the veritaserum stupor he was in, and a dawning look of realization – followed closely by embarrassment – started filling his eyes. Petunia leaned down and softly spoke, "This isn't over, mister. We will be talking about your behavior and this Jamie Tait bint later."

Once everyone had calmed down, their attention again turned to the bedraggled man that was still taped to one of their kitchen chairs. "So …" Harry trailed off, glancing over at his Aunt Petunia to try and deduce what to do next.

Petunia had never held someone hostage before, so her sense of proper decorum was a bit off. "Yes, well …" she started, nervously smoothing her shirt with her hands. "I suppose you are telling the truth then, Mr. Black. Erm … no offense, right?"

"None taken," Sirius responded, flashing her a cheeky grin before turning a bit contemplative. "You're not going to turn me over to the Aurors, are you?"

Seeing the blank looks on the three residences of number 4 Privet Drive, he clarified, "They're the wizarding law enforcement. Don't get me wrong, I'm happy and relieved that you believe me. But I have a feeling you're in the minority right now."

"Right …" Petunia replied, more to fill the awkward silence than to really show any sort of understanding. A sudden fear filled her eyes as she blurted out, "You wouldn't go to the British authorities to report us, would you?"

Sirius tilted his head sideways to stare at the trembling woman in front of him. "Why would I do that? First off, I don't even know how to go about that. Second, I have no idea if they would grab me as well."

"Oh!" Petunia squeaked, relieved that his argument and fervor actually convinced her. "I suppose that would be a bit odd."

A few more seconds of awkward silence passed. "So … " Sirius drawled, "do I get released now?"

* * *

Dinner was somewhat tense. Sirius, released and showered, was now shoveling chicken and potatoes into his face at an alarming rate. Even Dudley couldn't help but stare at the efficiency with which Sirius cut through the contents on his plate.

Sensing the three pairs of eyes on him, Sirius stopped mid-bite to glare. That caused them all to flinch and hastily divert their gazes to their own, mostly-full, plates. Sirius couldn't help but smirk a little before resuming his work.

After this incident, Harry and Petunia chose to ignore Sirius and instead engaged in a mental argument of epic proportions. Dudley even chipped in with a couple well-timed glares and eye rolls, helping Harry to finally concede defeat.

Now that their business was settled, Petunia cleared her throat slightly to get Sirius' attention. "Mr. Black?" she called out hesitantly.

"Hmm?" he responded through his mouthful of chicken, but turned his attention solely on Petunia.

She fidgeted slightly before clearing her throat again. "Rest assured we do believe you and I think it would be … good …" she gritted her teeth slightly at having to say that, "to get to know Harry better, but I don't think it's a good idea for you to stay here." She slightly moved back in her chair, cringing in preparation for the diatribe she was sure to follow.

Sirius looked at Petunia and Dudley quickly before fixing his gaze on Harry. "You would really like to get to know me?" he choked out, emotion filling his words.

Harry could only nod slowly, not trusting his voice. He wasn't worried about the kind of emotion in his voice like he heard in Sirius', but rather fear. He did want to get to know this man, but he wasn't sure what to make of him. And how much would he endanger Aunt Petunia and Dudley by being here periodically?

Sirius broke into a slightly manic grin, showing off his discolored teeth due to years of neglect. "I would really enjoy that too, cub. Thanks!" With one final stare he turned back to his meal and began eating again as if nothing had interrupted him in the first place.

Dudley shot a questioning look at his Mum, who just looked totally baffled by what just happened. Composing herself, she tried to catch his attention again. "Where will you stay then, Mr. Black?"

Sirius screwed up his face in concentration as he smacked away on his food. "Well …" he started before pausing to swallow his now-chewed bite, "I will probably go seek out another old friend. I heard a rumor that he was teaching at Hogwarts this year and I have some … business … there anyway." A vengeful gleam settled into his eyes, sending a chill down the spines of the other three.

The undertone of Sirius' comment dropped the table into an unnatural silence as everyone once again began studying their plates with clinical precision. Finally Sirius leaned back, emitted a small belch, then with a growing smirk started, "So Harry, tell me about your snogging session with this Jamie Tait …"

* * *

The months slipped by, punctuated by the occasional visits of Sirius Black in his dog form. Harry slowly began getting comfortable with the man behind the dog, but hadn't really figured him out yet. Petunia sensed the two getting more comfortable, so she had been alright with them not being 'supervised' their last handful of visits. Harry always treated Sirius politely, but still felt guarded toward the man.

During one of their conversations on an overcast spring day, Sirius seemed to pick up on this. "Harry," he asked, drilling the teenager with a piercing glare. "What do you really think of me?"

"_What do I think about him?"_ Harry thought, ransacking his brain to try and form a coherent answer. Sirius was … well … odd. Harry wasn't sure if this was because he was a wizard, because he spent a fair portion of his days as a dog _– "that __can't__ be good for your social skills,"_ Harry thought – or because he was essentially treated as a prisoner for a third of his life. While he did like having the guy around, he didn't think he would ever really be a father figure for him.

Taking a deep breath and meeting Sirius' gaze, Harry began, "I honestly feel like we're still getting to know each other. It's been odd getting to know someone who seems to know all about my parents and this different world, yet knows so little about me and the world I live in."

Seeing Sirius nod in grim resignation, he hastily added, "Not that I blame you for any of that. How could you know anything about me or my life given what has happened to you. It's just …" Harry sighed and ran his hand through his hair, trying not to bollix this all up. "I don't know what happens from here."

This didn't seem to help, as the air grew uncomfortable between the two of them. "I understand what you mean, Harry," Sirius started, his voice low and hollow. "This is a lot more complex than I expected. I guess I figured it would be like having your father around again; a younger version, sure, but still basically the same type of person. I knew your parents so well and I guess it never occurred to me that, even though you are so very much like them, being in the muggle world means you are also distinctly different."

At this point Harry wasn't sure if he was giving up on Sirius, or vice-versa. Changing topic a bit, Harry asked, "Sirius, do you think the magical world will ever clear you?"

Sirius looked up sharply and scanned Harry as if trying to understand the intent behind the question. "Are you asking because you don't believe I'm innocent or are you asking for another purpose?" he stiffly replied.

"The latter. I want to know if you'll be able to have a normal life again."

Relaxing a bit after hearing the teenager's response, Sirius began absently swishing the tea around in the floral cup Petunia had shoved into his hands earlier. "A normal life? I don't think that's possible anymore. Can I be cleared? It's possible, but only one or two scenarios will give that to me."

Now it was Harry's turn to become exasperated. "Why can't the magical world see reason? You have all these spells and elixirs – "

"Potions," corrected Sirius absentmindedly.

"Whatever. You have all this stuff that seems like it can weed out the truth easily, yet none of them are using it. What's wrong with your world?"

Sirius exhaled a weary sigh before looking at Harry with sad eyes. After a few moments of contemplation, he asked, "So you'll never join the wizarding world, Harry?"

Staring back at his godfather, he knew what he was really asking. Would he join him in the magical world or would he stay in the regular one? If he stayed, Sirius was effectively bidding him farewell. Oh, he would communicate occasionally and perhaps visit him now and again, but Sirius didn't belong here and they both knew it.

Harry thought a few moments about his answer before once again running his hand through his hair. "I can't say I would never join, but I honestly don't know what would make me want to. If you think about it, the only time I've ever been in that world was when I was a baby. As a result I have no recollection of it at all. Ever since then, I've been here in Little Whinging with Aunt Petunia and Dudley. The only things I know about the magical world are that some madman killed my parents and tried to kill me, they put you into prison without even giving you a chance to show you were innocent, and that daft Headmaster and Headmistress keep wanting me to go to a school that seems to be about the most dangerous place in the British Isles."

Sirius stared at Harry a bit before nodding his head slowly. "When you put it like that, it doesn't exactly sound like a top destination," he replied, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Well, I should get going Harry. If you ever change your mind, I will be there for you, Harry. Oh, and please take this." He thrust a small mirror into Harry's hands. "It's a way we can talk to each other. Just call my name and if I hear it you will see me in the mirror. I can also call you, so if you hear my voice calling you just pick it up."

"So this is like a telephone then?"

Sirius just stared blankly at the boy in front of him. "Umm … sure …" he answered, despite not being sure at all.

Reaching the front door, Sirius drew Harry into a tight hug. "Take care, Harry. I do care about you." After a quick glance through the windows, Sirius turned back into a black dog and trotted out the door.

* * *

Two months later, Petunia was once again conscripting her boys for yard work duty. As they prepared the gardens for the summer growing season, a large brown owl swooped down and deposited a rolled up newspaper on a small patio table. After a soft 'hoot!', the owl once again took to the skies, leaving the three denizens of Number 4 Privet Drive staring at the fowl with open mouths.

Dudley collected himself first and cautiously approached the table, clearly fearful of something dreadful happening to him. After jabbing it with his garden trowel a couple times, he determined that it really was just a newspaper and relaxed a bit. Unrolling it as Petunia and Harry drew near, Dudley gasped at the headlines: "Peter Pettigrew's Alive – and Potters' Murderer! Sirius Black Freed!"


	7. Chapter 7

**A Visitor in the Magical Kingdom**

* * *

**Chapter 7: The Cure for, and Cause of, All Dilemmas**

If there was one fault Albus would admit to, it was vanity. Oh not vanity in the traditional sense – although he was rather fond of his purple dress robes with the star and moon patterns that appeared to twinkle just a little bit. Rather, Albus enjoyed – craved even – the vanity of status. He needed to be viewed as the best headmaster Hogwarts had ever seen. He knew that, barring a major disaster here in the twilight of his career, he would be viewed as one of the best wizards to ever grace England. His defeat of Gindelwald pretty much assured that. But Hogwarts was another matter.

Things were progressing nicely until three years ago, when it became time for one Harry Potter, the savior of the modern wizarding world, to take his place in the hallowed corridors of Hogwarts castle. But try as he might, Harry refused to come and learn all that Dumbledore's school could teach him. Despite trying harder each year, Harry refused every single overture.

The fallout had been a major blow. The Daily Prophet caught wind of the issue and began wondering if he was slipping, saying if Harry Potter wouldn't go to Hogwarts there must be something horribly amiss. Unforseen tragedies the two subsequent years tarnished Albus' reputation even further. Even his most loyal supporters within the castle were questioning his decisions, sometimes openly. Unconsciously Albus peered at Minerva McGonagall out of the corner of his eye and saw her totally ignoring him yet again. Not that this was anything new, as he doubted the woman even so much as looked at him unless she absolutely had to in the last twelve months. To say their relationship had turned frosty would be a gross understatement – positively glacial was closer to the truth.

What Albus considered the final blow came just last spring. Sirius Black, thought to be the killer of the Potters, turned out to be innocent. Thankfully Albus himself wasn't put in a position to defend why Sirius never had a trial – that burden fell squarely on Barty Crouch, Sr. That man paid for his overzealous tendencies with a cell in Azkaban of his own. No, what hurt Albus the most was an analysis from the boy's own Godfather. He confirmed that even he had no sway over Harry's insistence to stay a muggle.

The past summer as Albus idly glanced through the pages of _Hogwarts: A History_ and mentally dreading what the authors' analysis of his tenure would yield, a few passages caught his eye and caused him to sit up with a start. Here in this tome was the answer to his problems: The Tri-Wizard Tournament.

* * *

This evening Albus was a happy man. Check that: Albus was a giddy man. Through his connections, the headmaster managed to not only revive the historic Tri-Wizard Tournament, but also managed to convince the two other delegations that Hogwarts should be the host for this prestigious event. Sure there were a few ruffled feathers that were smoothed down only when accompanied by some galleons here and there, but Albus felt this was worth far more than the price paid. He felt this action would help cement his reputation as the best headmaster Hogwarts had ever seen.

The delegations arrived without incident and now it was time. "Attention!" he called, raising his arms to silence the excited throngs of students. To add to the drama, Albus waived his hand to dim all the candles currently illuminating the great hall. "Tonight we are witnesses to a historic event – the revival of the Tri-Wizard tournament! Over the past few days, several of you put your name into the Goblet of Fire for consideration. Only the Goblet will choose the true champion; only those select individuals will be able to pursue the eternal glory of being known as the Tri-Wizard Champion!"

The Goblet soon flashed a brilliant blue and disgorged a slip of parchment. Dumbledore wandlessly summoned the paper and unfolded it before pausing a moment to let the suspense build. "Representing Durmstrang will be … Viktor Krum!"

Loud cheering broke out from the Durmstrang contingent, accompanied by polite applause from the Beauxbatons and Hogwarts students. Viktor made his way through the students and shook Dumbledore's hand before standing off to the side. The cup again flashed blue and a second slip of parchment fluttered toward the headmaster. "Representing Beauxbatons will be … Fleur Delacour!"

More cheering erupted as the lithe blonde strode haughtily toward the headmaster as if she had expected she would be the one chosen. With a third flare, the goblet pumped out another piece of parchment. "Representing Hogwarts will be … Cedric Diggory!"

Albus had to admit he was slightly surprised by this choice. Sure Cedric had a sharp mind, good athletic skills, and was one of the more popular students in school. But a Hufflepuff chosen above all others? Despite these thoughts, Albus congratulated Cedric warmly and asked him to stand beside the other two champions on the podium.

"We now have our three champions! The first task will take place …" the headmaster trailed off. The goblet flared again and a fourth piece of parchment shot up in the air before floating lazily down to the cobblestoned floor. The assembled masses were too shocked to do anything other than stare at the parchment for a moment before Albus collected himself and woodenly walked over to where it rested. Picking it up off the floor, his eyebrows shot up in surprise before looking at the ministry delegation.

Clearing his throat, Albus began, "It appears the cup has selected a fourth champion. Representing Blenheim High School will be … Harry Potter."

* * *

"What?!?" yelled Sirius as he hoisted himself out of the chair in front of Dumbledore's desk. Pacing back and forth to sufficiently work himself into full fury, the man stopped and leaned over the desk to get into the aged Headmaster's face. "He didn't even enter – he's not even in Scotland! He doesn't even know how to use his magic, Albus! You must put a stop to this nonsense now!"

Glaring briefly at the man before wiping the spittle off his face and glasses that Sirius had accidentally hurled his way, Albus subconsciously leaned back in his chair before continuing. "I know, Sirius. This is a grave matter and I have argued these very points with the ministry officials." Sighing disgustedly, he said, "But Bagman is adamant that Harry must compete or risk serious consequences."

Sirius managed to calm down enough to perch on the edge of his chair again. "What serious consequences?" he asked suspiciously.

Dumbledore put his glasses back on, leaned forward on his desk, and steepled his hands in front of him before responding. "Serious. Consequences. The most serious kind."

Taking in the meaning, Sirius leaned back in his chair and scrubbed his face with his hands. "I understand." He finally replied. "But there's no way I'm telling Petunia about this mess. She'll kill me and throw my body into the Thames."

The two men shuddered before exchanging glances and coming to a non-verbal agreement: It was time for the liquid courage. Lots of it.

* * *

"What do you mean by 'serious consequences'?" Petunia ground out. Thankfully the boys were at school and the two men were able to catch Petunia at home before she had to work swing shift. Not that she was thrilled to see them, judging by her cold glare when they appeared outside her door, standing on the plastic welcome mat of Number 4 Privet Drive. After much insistence this was important, she reluctantly let them in, but did not offer so much as a cup of tea.

"Well, for starters he would lose his magic," Sirius supplied.

Petunia's countenance brightened considerably. "Oh! He doesn't care about that anyway. No great loss."

Albus and Sirius stared thunderstruck at the woman. _How could anyone not care about their magic?_

Recovering slightly, Albus attempted to continue. "Er … right. However, the unfortunate side effect is that we believe his soul would also be lost."

A good thirty seconds passed, with Petunia setting her jaw more rigidly while the two men pondered whether to just throw _Avada Kedavras_ at each other to get their deaths over with now. "And why would Harry lose his soul?" she ground out, snapping the two men back to the conversation at hand.

Trying to take a delicate tone, Albus explained, "The Goblet is a binding agreement, or contract, for those that put their names in it –"

"But Harry didn't put his name in it," Petunia interrupted.

"… For those that have their names in it," the headmaster corrected, keeping a wary eye on the woman across the table from him. "If that name is chosen, the Goblet essentially holds that person's life force as collateral for their participation."

"What kind of daft arrangement is that?" Petunia screamed. "What is with you people? Just when I feel how you live your freakish lives can't possibly become more absurd, you trot out something like this! Are you trying to kill my son?"

At this point both men knew there was no point in arguing any of her questions. She was irate and hysterical and the only thing they could do was vow they would keep him as safe as possible. Thankfully last night, after about half a bottle of fire-whiskey, they realized the conversation would inevitably lead to this point and began formulating a plan. The memories of that plan were hazy and upon review this morning their notes seemed awfully incoherent, but between the two of them they were able to piece together most of the highlights.

"Petunia, we have a plan," Sirius started as he attempted to lay a comforting hand on her arm. Only his quick reflexes saved it from the stinging welt that would have been present had Petunia connected with her forceful slap. Taking a more conservative position two feet back from the table, he continued, "The contract only states he must compete. It doesn't state that he must compete well. He can simply show up for the three events, dither around for a couple of minutes, then withdraw. No harm, no foul." Albus couldn't help but share a smirk with the younger man at the sheer genius of their plan.

Sadly, Petunia realized she was once again trapped. The magical world had ways to make Harry do this, and she didn't have the power to protect him. Unfortunately that meant she needed faith that the men in front of her could do the job for Harry that she could not.

With a final shudder at that thought, she fixed her withering glare to Harry's Godfather. "With your kind running the show, I hardly believe it will be that simple."


	8. Chapter 8

**A Visitor in the Magical Kingdom**

* * *

**Chapter 8: Do Not Taunt the Visitors**

"But I didn't enter!" Harry blurted out. Upon entering the house with Dudley after school let out, Harry immediately became wary when he noticed his Aunt Petunia, his godfather Sirius, and that crazy old man from the magical school. None of them looked particularly happy, increasing his dread of the pending conversation even further. Besides, Aunt Petunia was home right now and not at work. She never missed work unless something was wrong with him or Dudley.

"I know, Harry. I know," Sirius said in a calm voice, hoping to keep any violence to a minimum.

"And I can't quit?" Harry asked again. He heard the answer the first time, but somehow he hoped that his hearing just momentarily failed him.

"I'm afraid not, Harry."

"But I don't really have to compete, do I? You think I can just jog around and waive my arms a bit, then retire?"

Sirius and Albus exchanged looks before nodding mutely. While they still thought it was a good plan, no one in the history of the tournament had actually tanked that spectacularly before. There was nothing in the rules that expressly forbid this, but with Ludo Bagman in charge you never knew. That man had even less common sense than the average wizard when it came to rules and regulations.

Harry nodded sadly then started fiddling with the edge of the tablecloth. "Erm … I don't actually have to go to school there, right? I can still stay here in Surrey, right?"

Albus started in what was hopefully a delicate voice. "Harry, we think it would be best if –"

"No! Absolutely not!" Petunia screamed. "Harry will stay here and continue to attend Blenheim. He can go to your school when he needs to but not for a moment longer!"

"Ms. Evans, I really think –"

"No, you don't think! Harry has said on numerous occasions that he wants no part of your world, so you go and create this game to try and draw him in!"

"Petunia, I assure you I had nothing to do with Harry's name being placed in the cup!" Albus thundered, irate that anyone would question the moral compass of England's lightest wizard.

For her part, Petunia stared back at the headmaster's now-cold gaze with one that could freeze over Hades itself. After a few moments stalemate, Petunia finally ground out, "I apologize for jumping to that conclusion."

Albus' gaze softened and he inclined his head slightly in acknowledgement.

"However my answer still stands. Harry will spend as little time in that world as possible."

Albus finally broke the staring match and sighed heavily. "Understood. However, he does need to come with me tonight for a couple of hours." Glancing at the wall clock, Albus promised, "I will have Harry back here by 8 this evening."

Getting a very small, stiff nod of acceptance, the two wizards finally got up to leave the kitchen with an unhappy Harry in tow.

* * *

The last thing Harry remembered was being instructed to hold onto Sirius' hand. After feeling a lurch and seeing a blur of colors, everything went black. Now coming around, he found himself being pulled out of a mud puddle, and the last traces of vomit dribbling down his chin. His godfather had a concerned – yet somehow amused – look on his face as he waived a stick around. Immediately Harry's clothes were dry and mud-free, the vomit cleaned off his face, and his breath feeling mintier than it had since this morning.

"What happened? And what did you do?" Harry questioned, slurring slightly.

"We took what's called a portkey – a form of wizarding travel. We're now in Scotland, Harry. That's Hogwarts Castle, right over there."

Turning to follow Sirius' pointer finger, he could see through a set of iron gates the monolithic stone bastion of wizarding education for the British Isles. Whistling softly, Harry felt Sirius tugging him forward and through the now-opened gates.

Given the surprise travel method, the awe-inspiring sites, and the frigid northern weather, Sirius realized Harry's mobility would need encouragement. After dragging Harry up the grounds and through the front doors, he stopped him just outside the Great Hall. Grasping him firmly by the shoulders and leaning down to look at the boy eye to eye, Sirius said, "Harry, how much do you know about how your parents died?"

Harry momentarily startled, not expecting this type of discussion from his godfather. Especially not here and now. He had been expecting a typical "you'll do fine" or "I'll be right beside you".

Recovering slightly, Harry just shrugged at first; speech coming a beat later. "I know they were killed by an evil wizard when I was young," Harry finally managed to say. "That's when I went to live with Aunt Petunia."

"Right, Harry. Erm … you do know the man tried to kill you and couldn't, right?"

"Yeah, that's why I have this scar." Harry helpfully pushed his hair aside to show the familiar lightning bolt scar gracing his forehead.

Sirius nodded but furrowed his brow as he did so. "Harry, do you realize you're quite famous for having survived that attack?"

Harry's eyes grew wide and he could only shake his head. "Right …" Sirius whispered and began looking uncomfortable. Gathering himself and pasting on a fake smile, he straightened up. "No matter. We'll march in there, Dumbledore will introduce you, and we can march right out. Does that sound like a plan?"

Before Harry could respond either way, Sirius' expression took on a look of resolve and he whipped the door open and pulled Harry inside, his arm tightly around the boy's shoulders so that they were practically marching down the center aisle two abreast.

Immediately the denizens Great Hall froze, students and staff alike. Two individuals many never expected to see were at this very moment marching through their ranks and headed toward the Headmaster.

Albus saw the two men briskly walking toward him and stood, his eyes twinkling. He beckoned them up to the platform so that they could stand beside him and get introduced. "Attention students! May I present the fourth participant of the Tri-Wizard Tournament, Mr. Harry Potter!"

Stunned silence greeted this announcement for a few beats before the din of conversations took over again, although clearly they were covering a new topic than whatever had been discussed previously. Albus looked slightly put out at this chain of events, but quickly got back to business. Raising his hands, the Great Hall quieted again as he continued his announcement. "Mr. Potter will be visiting us occasionally through his participation in the tournament. To help with his acclimation, we will sort him into an honorary house." Albus then signaled to Minerva to bring the stool and sorting hat out to the fore. For her part, Minerva looked as though she were only doing this due to threat and shot Sirius a look that said _"You better figure out a way to help your godson out of this mess if you know what's good for you."_

Harry beat him to the punch. "Wait, what are you doing?" he demanded to the Deputy Headmistress.

"The Headmaster," she began sardonically, "wishes to have the sorting hat determine what house you are best suited for. That way you can learn about the wizarding world and have a mentor during your time here at Hogwarts."

"Is that really necessary, Albus?" Sirius jumped in, having taken Minerva's unspoken threat to heart.

"I'm afraid so, Sirius," Albus began stoically. "Harry has not received even the basic skills in magic. Allowing him to compete when so ill equipped would be disasterous."

Sirius sidled closer to Albus and whispered to the man, "But what about our plan? Does he really need to learn any of this given our plan?"

"We must take any precaution necessary, Sirius. Our plan is still the same, but we should at least attempt to engage him in the magical world. At the very least he will not be totally defenseless in case something goes astray in the tournament."

"But I could teach him," Sirius blurted out in desperation.

Albus gaze focused on the man. "Sirius, we both know you have many other obligations. That won't be practical."

Sadly Sirius knew the headmaster was right. Having the House of Black essentially rudderless for over a decade had left much pressing business to take care of.

"I'm not putting on the bloody hat!" Harry blurted out, startling the two men who had managed to lose track of what was happening around them.

"Harry, you must," Albus chided gently.

"No way! I'm not putting that dirty thing on my head!" Harry exclaimed, staring at the hat in Minerva's hands with a mixture of suspicion and revulsion.

"How dare you speak to me like that, you insolent child!" the hat roared.

Harry nearly lost all bowel control on the spot, instead choosing to squeal like a little girl and hide behind Sirius.

"The Boy Who Lived is afraid of a hat!" one of the students called out, bringing laughter cascading through the Great Hall.

Harry was too petrified to care and clung to Sirius tightly. "You have a talking hat?" he questioned in a quivering voice, calming down a bit when he noted the hat remained sitting on the stool. Although he could have sworn that the hat was … glaring at him.

"So this is the Boy Who Lived, eh?" the hat taunted. "You're not as courageous as I imagined, especially given your lineage. Your parents must be most disappointed."

Harry's visage changed immediately and he purposefully stepped out from behind Sirius, took two long strides to reach the hat, and swiped it off the stool with a vicious swipe. "Listen to me, you mangy hat! Do not make fun of me or my family!" he ground out while crushing the hand in his grasp. With a final grunt he reared back and chucked it off the platform and into a platter of potatoes sitting on the Hufflepuff table, causing the students sitting in the vicinity to scatter.

"Stupid hat!" Harry muttered before stalking off the platform and back up the main aisle.

The Great Hall was silent for many beats after Harry Potter exited in dramatic fashion. Sirius managed to finally close his gaping mouth and took a deep sigh. With a resigned air, he muttered to Albus, "I'll go collect him and head to your office."

Minerva stepped off the platform shortly after Sirius and headed for the Hufflepuff table. "Professor?" squeaked a first year boy. "I think Harry Potter killed it," he announced while poking the sodden hat with his fork. Struggling to keep from rolling her eyes, Minerva fished the hat out of the potatoes and marched back to the platform while mulling over retirement options.


	9. Chapter 9

**A Visitor in the Magical Kingdom**

* * *

**Chapter 9: Taken for Granted**

Sirius found Harry outside. Apparently the boy stormed out of the Great Hall and successfully found the castle's entrance. After that he was decidedly less sure of where to go.

"How do I get back to Surrey?" Harry snapped when he realized Sirius was heading his way.

"I'll take you back soon, Harry. First we need to talk to the Headmaster. Er … we'll keep the hat away from you."

"Stupid hat," Harry muttered again as he let Sirius lead him back into the castle toward the Headmaster's office. Along the way Harry's mood became less sour as he took in the changing staircases, the people in the paintings that looked to be moving back and forth, and an odd old man holding a cat. The man glared at him with unadulterated contempt, as if he held a long-standing grudge against him for some unfathomable reason. The magical world was … weird. Truly, deeply, weird.

Soon they reached a gargoyle that kept people from falling into what looked like a turret inside the castle. Sirius muttered something and, to Harry's surprise, the gargoyle leapt to the side and stairs began to slowly revolve up the turret. He vaguely felt Sirius practically drag him onto the stairs before rising up toward a large heavy door. Thankfully the office appeared superficially more normal to Harry, snapping him out of his shocked state.

"Glad you could join us here in the present," Sirius joked as he saw Harry finally shake himself out of his wonderment. "See, the magical world isn't all bad."

Harry merely raised an eyebrow and gave a noncommittal grunt in response.

The Headmaster swept in moments later, along with Minerva and a cranky sorting hat. "Harry that was a very childish display down in the Great Hall," Albus intoned seriously while settling down in the chair behind his desk. "Perhaps you should apologize to the hat for your behavior."

Harry set his jaw and glared back at the old man, refusing to even acknowledge this rebuke. After a few moments of staring at the boy, Albus finally broke the stalemate and sighed heavily. "Perhaps the hat was a bit … mouthy," he commented, shooting the sorting hat a calculating glare. "I can assure you not everything you will encounter in the magical world is out to get you, Harry."

"Albus, can we hurry this up?" Sirius intoned. He was sure Harry would tell Petunia all about what had happened and he wanted to be far, far away by that point. The last thing he needed was to top off Harry's tale by bringing him back to Surrey after 8pm like they agreed.

"Of course; we do have a promise to Ms. Evans to keep. I wanted to give you a brief schedule of events between now and Christmas so you and Petunia have more time to prepare for these trips to Hogwarts." With this declaration, Albus waived his hand and a sheet of parchment fluttered softly into Harry's lap.

Picking up the parchment gingerly with just two fingers, Harry held it up and took a quick glance through the half-dozen or so commitments he now had. "I have to meet the press?" he blurted out upon seeing the first appointment in about a week's time.

"Yes Harry. The Tri-Wizard Tournament is a very big event in our society. Naturally people are curious about the participants. Especially you."

"And what's the first task?" questioned Harry. He had only been half-listening to the Headmaster's response as he continued to scan down the list.

"Well that's a surprise. The competitors won't know until the morning of the task what they are up against. It will be a test of their ability to think quickly when faced with an unknown challenge," he finished as his eyes twinkled brightly. Harry, not having the same level of mirth the headmaster seemed to possess when faced with an unknown danger, merely sighed heavily.

"So this is all I have to do?"

"Yes, this is all you are required to do as a participant up through Christmas. However, I think it would be wise to have a tutor, or mentor, that is familiar with the magical world. I would strongly encourage you to spend a few hours on the weekends here at the castle, learning from them so that you are more prepared with everything you will encounter this year."

Harry looked over to Sirius in order to see his reaction to this idea. After shifting nervously in his chair, he apologetically commented, "It probably couldn't hurt, Harry. I know we have discussed that you have no desire to join the wizarding world long-term, but you can't avoid it entirely this year due to your participation in these events."

Minerva noted that while Harry still didn't look convinced, he didn't reject the idea outright. She pondered that perhaps Albus had actually taken a proper step in his dealings with Harry Potter.

"Who would be tutoring me?"

Albus rubbed his chin slowly. "I planned on having the sorting hat choose an honorary house for you and ask a student within that house to help you. Given your disagreement with the hat, I doubt we should repeat that rather unfortunate set of events that played out in the Great Hall."

"Perhaps we could have one student from each house tutor Harry?" Minerva offered, somewhat startled that she was actually warming to the Headmaster's plan.

The twinkle in Albus' eyes increased dramatically as he felt he might have won Minerva back. It would still take a while before they were on good terms, but at least she wasn't looking at him with poorly-veiled disgust at every turn.

"I believe that's an excellent proposal, Minerva. Harry, would you be kind enough to return on Saturday? That way we have a bit of time to ask the students and set up a brief meeting."

Harry looked at the faces awaiting his answer. He knew that he hadn't actually agreed to do this whole tutoring thing yet, but he couldn't see anything overtly horrid about the idea. Looking back down at the schedule in his hands, he offered, "How about I come to this press event and I meet the students after that? Based on the meeting, I'll let you know if I want to be tutored or not."

It wasn't the answer Albus wanted, but he knew he shouldn't push more. Doing so would make Harry more resistant to the idea and be counterproductive to that small glimmer of hope he held onto – that he would go down as the greatest Hogwarts Headmaster ever.

"That will be fine, Harry. We'll see you next week."

* * *

"So what is this thing you're going to again?" Dudley asked Harry as they made their way up Privet Drive from school.

"I have to talk with the press – the wizarding press – since I have to be in this stupid tournament."

"And you say your famous or something? In their world, I mean, since you're just a git here in the normal world," he added.

"Piss off," mumbled Harry before pausing a beat and adding, "That's what Sirius says," Harry sighed.

Dudley scrunched his face in thought as they continued their journey past the nondescript houses and neatly trimmed lawns. "But why are you famous? You were a baby and your parents died. Were they famous or something?"

"Erm … I don't think they were. Sirius said I was the famous one because I survived the attack."

"Well that's stupid. You were a baby, so whatever happened that caused you to survive wasn't anything you did."

Harry snorted in amusement. Even Dudley could see how absurd the situation was.

As they entered the house, the boys dumped their bags and coats in the hall and made their way to the kitchen. Petunia was still stuck on swing shift so they were keen to discover what food she made for them. "Shepherd's Pie!" exclaimed Dudley, clearly chuffed to bits over the find.

The two boys took turns heating up the food in the microwave and settled into the living room sofa to watch the telly and eat. "So … " started Dudley between mouths of food. "Do you have to get dressed up for this thing?"

Harry squinted his eyes in thought for a bit. "I don't think so. At least no one said anything about it."

* * *

An hour later saw Sirius again helping revive and clean up Harry in front of the Hogwarts Gates. "Don't even say it," ground out Harry as his godfather attempted to stifle his laughter.

"You'll get it eventually," Sirius consoled, earning a dark glare from his godson.

Upon entering the Great Hall, Harry noticed that the tables had been cleared and in their place were rows of benches. The room seemed bigger somehow than the last time he was here, but perhaps it was because there had to be twice as many people present. Unconsciously Harry gripped Sirius' arm tightly and kept staring straight ahead. Perhaps he should have worn something other than trainers, jeans, and a Stoke City FC jersey with a long-sleeved t-shirt underneath. He then noticed everyone else seemed to be wearing dresses - or bath robes; he wasn't sure which - and he felt considerably better about his choice of attire.

The Headmaster greeted Harry warmly. "Welcome again to Hogwarts, Mr. Potter! Please take a seat here and we will begin."

Once seated, Harry noticed the other three students were considerably older than he was. The boy – no, man – next to him shot him a small smile and nod in greeting before turning back to face the Headmaster.

"We will begin with the Weighing of the Wands, then we'll allow a short discussion with each of our champions. Hogwarts is delighted to have Mr. Ollivander here to oversee the ceremony. Mr. Ollivander?"

With that an older man with eerie eyes wandered up and approached the woman at the far end of the table. The woman gave him a stick and he looked it over appraisingly before speaking. He made some comment about the wood, something about a veela, then waived the stick around and made a bouquet of flowers appear. Harry stared at the events as they unfolded, happy that at least there was some entertainment involved with this whole thing.

He continued to watch with rapt attention as the odd man proceeded to the next competitor, then finally stood in front of the one beside Harry. Each time he would comment about the wood, about something else that Harry didn't quite understand, then do a magic trick with the stick. He was just finishing up with the boy next to him when Harry realized he didn't have a stick to give him.

Ollivander stepped in front of Harry and, if anything, looked even more creepy as his odd eyes took on an unusual light. "Mr. Potter," he said softly, "it's a pleasure to meet you at last."

Harry tried to smile but it came out as more of a grimace.

"I must say I quite wished to be the one to find you a wand, but at least I have been given this opportunity. Could you please hand me your wand?"

Harry looked over to Sirius with pleading eyes. Sirius, who had been trying to discretely check out the dishy blond at the far end of the table, looked at his godson curiously before everything jolted into place and he blurted out, "Oh shite!"


	10. Chapter 10

**A Visitor in the Magical Kingdom**

**

* * *

**

**Chapter 10: Q&A**

"But Dumbledore, he must have a wand in order to compete," Ludo Bagman exclaimed. They were in the middle of an impromptu meeting discussing the latest surprising twist in an already memorable Tri-Wizard Tournament, despite the fact the challenges hadn't even started yet.

"I agree Ludo. It was merely an oversight which we will correct immediately," Dumbledore replied while shooting Sirius a stern look. The man at least had the decency to look abashed.

"Why do I need a wand if I don't know how to do magic?" Harry whispered to his Godfather.

"Remember we discussed you getting some tutors here at Hogwarts? They will teach you a bit of magic."

"I haven't agreed to that yet," Harry reminded him. "Besides, if the plan is to just wander around for a couple of minutes before retiring, why do I need to use a wand or magic?"

Sirius sighed and took a furtive glance up. Dumbledore and Bagman were still discussing something with the other ministry officials so he chanced a reply. "These challenges are … unpredictable, Harry. That's still our plan, but we want to at least equip you with basic spells in case something goes wrong." Seeing the panicked look in Harry's eyes, he tried to reassure his godson. "Now Dumbledore and I will jump in if we see any danger, but it will take a couple seconds for us to respond.

"Besides," Sirius started, attempting to deflect Harry's thoughts away from the imminent danger he would face, "there's a certain amount of … proper decorum that must be kept. All wizards and witches use a wand so it would look odd to have you march in there without one."

That did the trick, as Harry now looked at his godfather incredulously. "You want me to get a wand for … decorum? Why don't you just give me yours to borrow?"

Sirius' hand instinctively gripped his wand tighter as he fought back the memories of having his original wand snapped then facing the dementors defenseless. "No," he responded in a brittle voice. "It's my wand. You should get your own wand."

After a beat Harry looked up at his godfather with a speculative look. "Not even for your godson? You sure are lousy at sharing."

Sirius glared at Harry. "It's not like that. This wand probably won't work for you. Ollivander says the wand chooses the wizard, meaning my wand works best for me and won't work best for you. You need to find the wand that chooses you; that one will work best when you use it. Well, once you know how to use it, that is."

Harry scrunched up his face trying to understand how that worked. Shouldn't it be like a cricket bat? Sure, someone else's bat may not feel quite as good as your own but you can still use it. Not being able to wrap his mind around it, Harry sighed and rubbed his face again. It sure sounded like a cop-out to him, but the wizarding world was full of weird stuff; for all he knew this was another strange but true fact. With a resigned tone, he replied, "Sure Sirius, whatever. But you're buying it for me."

* * *

"Rita Skeeter from the Daily Prophet," she stated clearly after being called upon. "This is a question for Harry Potter. Harry … where have you been these past 10 years?"

"Uh … don't you mean 13 years?" Sirius asked, having taken up a position by his godson.

"Yes, yes. Whatever," she replied waiving her hand carelessly as if swatting a pesky insect.

"I've been –" Harry started before he suddenly couldn't make a sound. He shot Sirius an astonished look and started pointing to his throat frantically. Sirius seemed not the least bit worried and merely turned his gaze toward Dumbledore, raising an eyebrow in question.

As the Headmaster stowed his wand, he replied in a light, conversational voice, "Now Rita, I'm afraid we don't want to endanger young Harry. Broadcasting his living arrangements to the wizarding world would surely bring about much unwanted attention and pose potential threats to his family's well-being."

"You mean aside from being in this tournament, which will also endanger his well-being?" she countered.

"Yes … that's exactly what I mean."

"If you are so concerned with the safety of this 12 year old –"

"I'm 14," Harry interrupted, startling himself. "How did I get my voice back so quickly?" he asked Sirius, who was stowing his wand as well.

Sirius made a spooky face and wiggled his fingers in the air. "Magic," he whispered.

Harry merely stared back at his godfather, nonplussed. "I think you spent too much time as a dog."

"I repeat," Rita pronounced loudly, gaining the attention back onto her. "If you're so concerned about the safety of this boy," she paused and turned to Harry with a mocking look to see if addressing him like this was okay, "then why didn't you try and stop this, Albus?"

"The goblet is a magical device and creates a binding contract on the life-force of those whose names are chosen. I cannot reverse that even if I wanted to."

Seeing Rita nod in understanding, Harry mumbled to Sirius, "Why does everyone think that's a reasonable answer? You're saying a cup –"

"Goblet," Sirius corrected.

"Whatever. You're saying a goblet is smarter than the lot of you? Who made the goblet? Can't they just reprogram it?"

Sirius stared back at his godson with a blank look. "Re … program?" he started uncertainly.

"So Harry," Rita interrupted. "Did you enter yourself for the fame, the fortune, or for the chance to capture the love of all British witches?" She then winked saucily at Harry before rearranging her face in an innocent schoolgirl look, complete with wide eyes and a finger resting against slightly puckered lips.

"Please don't do that," Harry whispered with a shaky voice and seemed to turn slightly green. Averting his eyes, he noticed Sirius smoothing his goatee and shooting the reporter a roguish grin. Despite being thankful that perhaps the reporter was flirting with Sirius and not himself, Harry still wrinkled his nose in disgust before deciding to study the woodgrain patterns in the tabletop for the remainder of this experience.

"Actually none of the above. I didn't enter and the only reason I'm here today is because I was told I could die if I didn't compete."

"Don't be so modest, Harry. After all, you defeated You-Know-Who. But perhaps you were feeling like the spotlight was starting to dim a bit; it has been a while since that event after all. And maybe … maybe you just needed a new challenge to test your wizarding skills? Is that why you did it, Harry?"

Harry couldn't help but look back at the reporter incredulously. "I. Didn't. Enter." he ground out.

"Perhaps we should move on to questions for the other champions," Albus suggested, hoping to keep Harry's temper in check. After all, he still hadn't agreed to the tutoring sessions.

"Fine," Rita replied, but shot Harry a knowing look. "You there, blondie."

"My name is Fleur," the girl in question replied hotly.

"Yes … So Flower, how does it feel to be pitted against a legend such as Harry Potter, when he clearly has skills so great he doesn't even need to perform magic with a wand?"

Harry could only groan and start banging his head against the table.

* * *

After the interviews, McGonagall took Harry back to her classroom where four other students were waiting for them. Each had long, black robes and a different colored scarf, making Harry feel all the more out of place in his 'normal' clothes.

McGonagall closed the door and drew her wand. With a casual flick she caused the desks to all scoot to the sides of the room, leaving six chairs arranged in a circle. Harry could only stare in awe, back and forth between the old woman and the chairs. "How did you do that?" he blurted out.

With a small smile she replied, "That, Mr. Potter, is why you are here right now." She then sat down and gestured that both the students and Harry do the same.

"Alright, let's start with introductions. Hermione, would you go first?"

The girl to the teacher's right had big, frizzy brown hair and a rather nasty-looking scar down her left cheek. She self-consciously pulled some of her hair over her face and looked down into her lap; clearly she didn't like people staring at her appearance.

"I'm Hermione Granger, a fourth year from Gryffindor. I'm a muggle-born; both of my parents are dentists. We live in the Hampstead Garden area of London and I like to read." She said it all so fast Harry wasn't sure she even took a breath.

"Nice to meet you, Hermione," Harry said while extending his hand to the shy girl. Fishing for something to say, he continued, "Erm … that's an interesting name. Are you named after someone?"

"It's from Shakespeare. My parents like literature and named me after a character from _A Winter's Tale_." She seemed to brighten a bit and chanced a look at Harry's face, so he tried to smile encouragingly back at her. He was dying to ask about the scar but knew he hated it when people asked about his; maybe later they could swap scar stories.

McGonagall nodded, giving Hermione a small pat on her leg before gesturing to the next person. "I'm Daphne Greengrass, a fourth year from Slytherin," the girl said in a monotone, harsh voice. Harry's first thought was that the voice matched the person perfectly; she looked plain and kind of hard, with angular features, muddy brown eyes, and her flat hair hanging limp around her face. This girl was not the picture of beauty.

"I'm a pureblood and my parents work as spell researchers. I like to study and will be the head girl in two years, nine months." Harry noticed Hermione glare slightly at the other girl while the other two students merely rolled their eyes. Obviously she was a popular one amongst her classmates.

"Um … nice to meet you, Daphne." She took Harry's extended hand and attempted to crush every bone while her eyes glinted with a dark pleasure from doing so. Finally wrenching his hand free, Harry made a mental note to never be left alone with the 'psycho, mean girl'.

McGonagall glared at the unrepentant Daphne before the next student spoke up. "I'm Justin Finch-Fletchley from Hufflepuff. I'm also muggle-born and my father is in the banking industry in Bristol." Justin seemed the most normal so far; not that it was a particularly high bar set by the two girls.

As the boys shook hands he actually asked Harry a question. "So you really are the Harry Potter?"

"I guess. At least that is what everyone tells me."

"And you really defeated You-Know-Who when you were a baby? How did you do it?"

Clearly being in the wizard world made Justin's brain go soft and Harry started to re-evaluate just how much higher he really raised the bar. Harry quirked his eyebrow and replied in a slightly condescending voice, "I was a baby, Justin. I have no idea how it happened."

Thankfully he had the decency to look slightly contrite – perhaps spurred on by another McGonagall glare – before the final student spoke up. "And I'm Terry Boot, a half-blood from Ravenclaw."

"Half-blood?" Harry interrupted. "So you're half human and half …" he let the question linger.

* * *

"Explain to me again how this happened?" asked a confused Sirius as he carried Harry down to the Hogwarts gates, trying to avoid the rainbow clown hair sprouting from his godson's head while maintaining a tight grip on his jelly-jinxed legs.

"I don't want to talk about it," Harry muttered, trying his best to look dignified.


	11. Chapter 11

**A Visitor in the Magical Kingdom**

* * *

**Chapter 11: The Truth About Wands**

"What's the stick for?" Dudley asked as he made his way into the kitchen to grab a snack.

"It's a wand. It helps magic people, er … do magic," Harry finished lamely.

Dudley chortled at his cousin's sudden lack of eloquence before resuming the discussion. "It's like you're Tinkerbelle or something." He then narrowed his eyes slightly before continuing, "They aren't making you into a poofter or anything, are they?"

Harry could only glare witheringly back in retort.

"So … where did you get it?"

"Sirius took me to a magic shop, um, Ollivander's I think it was called."

Dudley screwed up his face in confusion. "So you can just go to a magic shop and get … real magic stuff?"

Harry looked at Dudley quizzically until he mentally reviewed their conversation again. "Oh! No, it's a real magic shop," he corrected. "There's a secret shopping area that only magical people can get into. Sirius took me there; that's where Ollivander's is located."

This appeased Dudley and he soon shifted topics again. "So, can you do anything cool with that wand?"

Harry looked down at the piece of holly in his hand before turning back to his cousin and shrugged a bit. "I don't know; haven't tried yet."

"Well … do you know any tricks or seen any of those other magic folks do tricks?" Dudley pressed, his excitement getting the better of him.

While Harry didn't know any tricks – or even if that's what witches and wizards called their magic stunts – he had seen a couple … tricks. "Well," he began slowly, "This one boy did do a couple tricks after that press conference. I guess I said something …" Harry paused as he shuddered slightly at the memory, "Inappropriate to him, so after our meeting he did a couple things."

Dudley looked confused again, having not heard this tale. "Wait, what happened?"

Harry, cursing himself for revealing this to Dudley, flushed a bit before shooting his cousin a calculating look. "Not a word of this, okay? I didn't even tell Sirius."

"You didn't tell Mum either?"

"No. And she won't find out about it, yeah?"

Dudley let out a low whistle in appreciation. This had to be good! Nodding quickly he encouraged Harry to spit it out.

"Well, I met with Professor McGonagall – the old lady that keeps showing up here – and she took me to meet a few students. They want me to spend a couple hours each week getting tutored by them in magic."

"Any good-looking ones?" Dudley interrupted.

Harry stared at his cousin like he had gone barmy and couldn't suppress a sudden shudder from filtering through his frame. "God, no. Although, there's another girl in this tournament thing that's … wow …" Harry's eyes became distant and a small smile formed on his features. Dudley erupted into a wistful grin, probably imagining something entirely unwholesome.

"Anyway," Harry began again after shaking his head to focus his thoughts, "This bloke said he was a 'half-blood' and –"

"So he's not all human?" Dudley blurted out incredulously.

"See! See!" Harry exclaimed while emphatically pointing at his cousin. "That's what I thought as well! Apparently that wasn't the right conclusion though."

Dudley cocked his head a bit then, with a dawning look of comprehension, nodded significantly at Harry. "So what did he do?"

"I could tell he was hacked off, but he didn't do anything until McGonagall ended the meeting and we began to leave the classroom. This other bloke – um, Justin I think – was asking me a few questions so I left the room last. In the hallway the half-blood git points his wand at me and says a couple things in some foreign language. Light shoots out of the wand and hits me. Next thing I know my legs won't work and I have this … this … clown hair."

Dudley, who was leaning forward with an open mouth and wide eyes while listening to Harry's tale, blinked twice then began howling in laughter. "He gave you clown hair?" he choked out between fits. "How did you get your normal hair back?"

Harry stared darkly back at his cousin before answering, "Sirius came to take me back and found me like that. He had to carry me out to the gates of the school and only then waved his wand to make the hair go away and my legs to feel normal again."

"How come he didn't just do that when he found you?"

"Well I suppose …" Harry trailed off, realizing he had been duped by his Godfather. Seeing his reaction, Dudley broke into fresh fits of laughter. Harry responded in the most mature way possible – by indulging in a rather crude hand gesture.

After a couple of minutes, Dudley finally calmed down enough to speak again. "So … you're going to show me a magic trick?"

"No. No I'm not."

"Harry, quit being a git," Dudley chided, reinforcing his words with a slug into Harry's arm. "Less talk, more action."

While still not entirely over Dudley's laughter at his expense, Harry decided he really didn't want to be slugged again and relented.

"Well, I don't know much, but when we were picking out my wand, Ollivander said I should wave my arm around. The wand would fire off sparks … erm … like this."

Harry proceeded to get up out of the chair and, standing in the middle of the kitchen, waved his wand back and forth in front of him. Sure enough, a few red and gold sparks shot out the end before harmlessly falling to the linoleum floor.

Dudley nodded his head slowly in appreciation. "That's pretty cool. How does it work?"

"Well … I don't know exactly," Harry admitted. "When I pick up the wand it kind of creates a warmth inside of me –"

"Like eating soup," Dudley blurted out.

Harry stared incredulously at his cousin for a solid five seconds. Then with a placating tone he replied, "Sure, Dudley. It's just like eating soup.

"Anyway, if I concentrate on that feeling and wave the wand around a bit, the sparks seem to shoot out."

"So if you really concentrated hard, could you get … bigger sparks to shoot out?"

Harry looked back at his cousin, clearly thinking about this new revelation. Slowly, matching grins spread on the boys' faces and Harry retook is position in the middle of the kitchen. Screwing his face up in concentration, Harry waited until he could almost feel the warmth coursing through his body and then willed it down his arm and into the wand. Immediately the red and gold sparks blasted out of the wand and jetted across the kitchen and toward a mesmerized Dudley.

In an instant Dudley's fascinated look became one of abject fear and he threw himself out of his chair and onto the floor in order to avoid the oncoming stream of fire. Luckily for the boy, his surprisingly athletic move saved him from singed hair and clothes; unfortunately the floral tablecloth had no such talent for agility.

With a girlish shriek, Dudley scrambled away from the flames that now lapped across the table in nervous swirls. "Make it stop! Make it stop!" he screamed while unmercifully shaking Harry by his shoulders.

"I can't! Those aren't sparks anymore! I don't – don't know how to stop fire!"

Once he had a chance to process those words, Dudley stopped shaking his cousin and both boys glared down at the offending stick in Harry's hand. Harry took a deep breath to gather himself then commented in a surprisingly calm voice, "Water, then?"

With a blink and a nod the two boys regained their focus and filled two bowls with water before unceremoniously dumping them over the table. Their efforts were rewarded with a quick hiss and lazy tendrils of steam and smoke wafting up to the ceiling.

Now that the danger was over, both boys stood there and mentally assessed the damage. Dudley turned to Harry and murmured in a quiet voice, "Mum is going to kill you."

* * *

Sunday morning brought cold, drizzly weather to the Scottish highlands as well as the arrival of one Harry Potter. "I understand your Aunt would prefer we started your lessons off with wand safety?" Professor McGonagall inquired as she led the boy down yet another corridor inside the castle.

"Yes," Harry responded tightly, his mind flashing back to the unholy screaming tirade Aunt Petunia unleashed on him when she returned home from work that evening.

They arrived at a closed door and McGonagall turned abruptly to face him. "I see," she replied curtly while piercing him with a penetrating look. "Today you will be working with Miss Granger on that very topic. She is an exceptionally bright young witch and is a muggle-born, so she has a proper respect for how to deal with magic in such a setting as your Aunt's home."

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you," he guiltily replied before turning the doorknob and entering the classroom, thankful to escape the stern professor for someone a little less judgmental. Inside he found a girl with tremendously frizzy hair hunched over a table filled with books and rolls of … parchment? Her face, although partially obscured by the wild mane of hair, was bent low over the table as she intently scrawled out one final sentence before straightening up to acknowledge Harry's presence.

"Er, hi," Harry started and walked tentatively toward the girl. "I'm here for my first lesson with you."

The girl blushed a bit and automatically pulled a bit of that frizzy hair over her left cheek in an attempt to obscure the scar that marred her features. Silently she motioned for him to sit in the empty chair and began to tidy her homework, never once looking at Harry for more than a second.

Harry jogged his memory of his first meeting with this girl – Hermione, if he recalled correctly – and realized that she was painfully shy even then. With a sigh Harry realized this could be a very quiet, very uncomfortable day unless he tried to break the ice a bit.

Seeing Hermione about to shove a feather quill into her bag, Harry asked the first thing that came into his mind. "So you use a quill and parchment rather than pen and paper? Is that a requirement or do you just like it?"

Hermione froze and stared at the offending writing utensil in her hand for a solid thirty seconds before whispering, "It's just what the wizarding world uses. I don't think they would appreciate it if I used a pen and paper instead."

"They wouldn't appreciate it?" Harry questioned, unsure what this world would think is evil about such mundane items.

"The magical world is very traditional," Hermione answered in a stronger voice as she resumed putting her things away. "It's like they're stuck in the last century since they don't use electricity or any of the other modern things you and I are used to in the muggle world. They are isolated by choice, so I think that forcing modern things into their world might offend them."

Harry, while impressed with the thought and depth of her answer, almost let it slip from his mind when she unconsciously flipped her hair mid-sentence. This act revealed the left side of her face, causing Harry to catch sight of that long scar again. Resisting the urge to comment about it he instead turned to business. "So … what are you going to teach me today?"

"Today I thought I we would cover some basics on how to handle a wand safely." Then in a sudden fit of anxiety, she seemed to shrink away and meekly added, "Erm, if that's okay with you?"

Harry shrugged in agreement. After all, he didn't really know anything about the magical world so whatever she taught him would most likely be new information.

Hermione regained her slightly more confident tone upon seeing Harry's approval and chewed her lip a bit in thought. "Okay, why don't you show me your wand and how you grip it."

Harry couldn't help but snigger a bit, earning a blush of embarrassment from Hermione and more hiding behind her hair. Nevertheless, he dutifully fished around in his pocket a bit before triumphantly withdrawing the holly stick. After spending a few minutes correcting his grip, Hermione deemed Harry fit to hold a wand and moved on to proper wand storage.

"Our defense professor says you must never put the wand in your back pocket," recited Hermione in her still-quiet voice.

"Why is that?"

"Well, he insists that some folk have accidentally cursed their … erm … bottom off."

Harry just stared at the girl incredulously. "Cursed their arse? Seriously?" Upon seeing her earnest nod to the affirmative, he countered, "Well then what about the front pockets? It seems like that could be even worse for us blokes."

Hermione turned bright red and gaped at the boy across from her, too surprised to even hide behind her hair.

Harry pressed on, still pondering the repercussions of this warning. "If you get zipped in the bum, it's kind of embarrassing I guess. However it's just a fleshy bum so after a couple of days you would probably be okay. But if you got cursed in the privates, well that's just not right. That could cause irreparable damage. And while girls like scars I'm guessing you wouldn't want to discover that type of injury, right?"

Mortified, Hermione finally squeaked out, "Perhaps it's best to keep it in a coat pocket, or in a holster or something. Just … let's not talk about this anymore, okay?"

With a final shudder, Harry carefully placed the wand on top of the table – pointed away from his being – and nodded in agreement. "All I'm saying is it seems these things should come with safeties on them. I for one like my privates where they are; I don't want some stick rearranging them for me." He made a mental note to ask Sirius about wand holsters … and protective cups.


End file.
